


New World, New Rules

by chrystal896



Series: Avengers Drabbles [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, Steve Feels, Steve Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 02:18:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5073577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrystal896/pseuds/chrystal896
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve will always do what he does best: adapt.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New World, New Rules

**Author's Note:**

> A random plot bunny that escalated into a ficlet. Brought on by conversations with my BFF about slang, idioms, curse words, and other bits and bobs of the English language that English as Second Language Learners would have difficulty with which somehow morphed into how Steve would adapt to using the language of the 21st century. Be kind, this is my first Avengers fic. I just wanted some Steve feels, is that so wrong?

_Gee whiz, fella, yes sir, no sir, swell_

“It seems to run on some form of electricity.”

 

Steve would look back on that moment and be grateful that Tony hadn’t replied with anything more than “Well, you’re not wrong.” It had shown a level of sensitivity in the man that Steve wouldn’t have expected. Up until that point, all of their dealings had been antagonistic to say the least. So Steve wasn’t expecting to feel that surge of gratitude when Tony let the opportunity to needle him fly by.

 

The expressions had varied from pitying, to hero-worship, to disbelief when he’d come out of the ice. The looks of pity, he ignored. Growing up as a scrawny, asthmatic artist in Brooklyn hadn’t ever won him any favors. The hero-worship, he tried to ignore. The way he figured it, everyone needed someone to look up to and after a brief but horrifying run-in with reality television, he could live with being a role-model as long as it meant someone wasn’t trying to become the next Kardashian.

 

When it came to disbelief, however, Steve just got irritated. They were either amazed at the walking, talking Neanderthal who was playing at understanding this “new-fangled” technology or there was utter incomprehension that he didn’t know what a certain word or phrase meant or where it came from or even what it signified.

 

Someone please tell him how he was supposed to know what “run, Forrest, run,” meant? If Darcy hadn’t taken _pity_ on him and sat him down with the movie Forrest Gump, he’d have spent the next few weeks wondering who Forrest was. And no doubt, Clint and Tony would have used that against him. There was, after all, a limit to Tony's self-control.

 

No one seemed to understand how much things had changed for him. Beside the obvious technology gaps, way of dressing, and the pace at which things moved, there was the language.

Though, for the record, the technology gap wasn’t as wide as Tony thought it was. He’d fought beside Howard Stark against Nazis using advanced weaponry that wasn’t all that different from today. Sure, computers were new, but his brain was perfectly capable and in fact excelled at learning new things. The serum was good for a lot even if didn’t let him get drunk. Old habits, however, were hard to break.

 

_Damn it, fuck, hell, shit, bitch_

 

He wasn’t afraid of these words. They didn’t create some sense of outrage or go against his moral fiber. He grew up in Brooklyn, he joined the army, curse words were a given. However, he wasn’t used to hearing them on television or hear them come flying out of a dame’s mouth. You showed respect to a woman, to an elder, to a man of business. He wasn’t afraid; he was confused. But he was going to do what he did best. Adapt.

So he did. He watched television shows and movies. He tried to understand why someone would create a show about someone making a living as a drug dealer when he’d seen up close and personal what drugs could do to a person.  After watching Star Wars, he finally figured out that Tony didn’t want to make a sword out of metal, he wanted to make a lightsaber capable of slicing someone in half and cauterizing the wound instantaneously.  Which admittedly, had a lot of practical applications as far as he could see when it came to warfare. He adapted.

 

_Tweet, viral, meme, Google_

 

Everyone had warned him not to google himself. But he was never one to back down from a challenge. Especially once he learned that using Google could help him learn more about this century and help him catch up on all that he’d missed. He still couldn’t bring himself to create a twitter account. Most of them seemed to be nothing more than idolizing or complaining about superstars or complaining or idolizing the food they’d eaten.

 

The first time someone had told him that their fight had gone viral, he’d had to stop himself from asking if that meant they’d need a shot. He’d gotten up close and personal with polio as well, so he couldn’t understand how viral could possibly be a good thing. But there were many things in this world that used to be bad that now meant good.

 

There was nothing he could do, but adapt.

**Author's Note:**

> It feels good to be writing again. My hiatus was too long. For the record, I don't own Steve Rogers or the Avengers. To be honest, I'm not entirely sure what I'd do with them if I did own them. Then again....
> 
> Hope you enjoyed my random plot bunny! Comments and kudos are love!


End file.
